


Digital Intimacy

by 8BitSkeleton



Category: Funhaus (Video Blogging RPF)
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Nude Photos, Phone Sex, Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 13:07:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5586793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8BitSkeleton/pseuds/8BitSkeleton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So yeah, Adam accidentally sent Lawrence some nudes (it <i>was</i> an accident, shut up) and instead of making a joke or brushing it off, Lawrence...</p><p>Lawrence sent nudes back.</p><p>This is a hell of a sticky situation, if you ask Adam. Pun completely intended.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Digital Intimacy

**Author's Note:**

> working title for this fic was hotline bling
> 
> discarded title for this fic was Adam Has Feelings of Inadequacy While Jerking It
> 
> a wholehearted thanks to [adrian](http://gamersnork.tumblr.com) for reading this over and over again and being a sounding board and just. for being them. thanks.
> 
> special thanks to the anon who sent me [this message](http://40.media.tumblr.com/75189a55d904271b41d6e311fba31048/tumblr_o079fpSNMS1udvyvso1_1280.png) which spawned this baby. youre the real mvp.

Adam doesn’t even remember taking the pictures is what gets him.

He and Bruce are in Texas, staying in a hotel for the week because no one could afford to lodge them. Ironically enough, the hotel was so booked, they had to get different rooms and that was way more expensive, they’re sure someone at Rooster Teeth is lamenting how much money this is costing them and Adam feels for them, he really does. But on the other hand, he barely ever gets an entire hotel room all to himself, so the first day they get there, he splays on the bed and just sighs happily. And that same night, they get invited out for drinks with the Achievement Hunter guys.

He and Bruce have travelled together before, they’re old hats at this, and they know each other well. Which is why Adam is so irate, _honestly._

Number one rule of Adam Kovic (which Bruce should know by now, _goddammit_ ): Never leave Adam in a room alone when he’s drunk, unless he is well and truly sound asleep.

Number two rule of Adam Kovic (which should be at the forefront of Bruce’s brain, Adam blames him): Never leave Adam in a room alone when he’s _very_ drunk and cuddly, _unless he is well and truly sound asleep._ Like, dead to the world.

And Adam knows in the back of his mind that he and Bruce are not sharing a room, therefore Bruce has no obligation to him, and on top of that, Bruce was _still_ taking care of Adam, getting them both painkillers for the morning and some food. But fuck, the petty part of Adam’s brain blames _him_.

Their week is planned out and packed; they have meetings almost every morning and afternoon, and they have dinners too. While there’s always time to fool around at Rooster Teeth, this shouldn’t be the kind of fooling around that should be taking place.

Adam stares helplessly at his texting app as the photo scrambles into a million waves, goes on up to space, and sends back down to Lawrence’s phone a thousand miles away to display a picture of Adam’s naked body reflected on the hotel room’s mirror, his bare ass in full display.

He has a meeting in three minutes and he hasn’t even finished his coffee yet. Lawrence just asked for pictures of the project board they pitched to Gavin. He did not ask for Adam to send him his bare ass, unsolicited, at 8 in the morning.

Adam wants to throw his phone against a wall. He wants to scream, text Lawrence a hurried, ‘ _Sorry i didnt mean to send that my pictures werent loading and i thought that was what you asked for sorry pls delehsgdjcjfnfk_ ’

He’s halfway through typing something akin to that, too, when he feels Bruce’s hand clap him on his shoulder, startling him out of his thoughts. He locks his phone in record time and shoves it in his pocket violently.

Bruce gives him a look, asks, “You okay?”

Adam takes a long sip of his coffee. “Yep,” he answers around a burning tongue. “Still a little hungover, nothing I can’t handle.”

Bruce nods and squeezes his shoulder. “You want me to get you water? You can excuse me from the meeting for a few minutes, right?”

Adam says, “No, I think I’ll be fine with my coffee for now,” and he smiles very unconvincingly.

Bruce’s eyebrows twitch but he pushes the topic no further. “Okay, we should get in there. Might be late.”

“Yeah,” Adam murmurs and finishes his coffee with one last gulp. He throws away the cup before he enters the conference room and feels his phone vibrate twice on his way into the room, and again in the middle of the meeting.

He is not afraid to admit that he’s scared shitless.

 

* * *

 

He has no idea what the meeting was about. Couldn’t repeat a single word that was said to him, if he was asked.

Adam is met with an uncomfortable dilemma now. He has to use his phone to do _actual business things_ but he can’t bring himself to take it out of his pocket. Every time his hand goes to fish it out, he gets a spike of regret where he remembers what he did, and that Lawrence probably answered back.

This is not something their friendship has gotten to, ever. They’ve seen each other in every state of undress minus being buck-ass nude with each other. By now, Adam is very familiar with Lawrence’s bulge, which is– probably not something he should say out loud.

It comes to a head when Aaron, Jon, and Blaine invite him and Bruce to lunch. They agree to meet up on the parking lot at lunchtime and then they’re going to vote on where to eat, standard stuff. Only, Bruce is calling Aaron and Aaron isn’t picking up, so Bruce huffs, looks around the parking lot for them, and, after no sightings, turns to Adam. He asks, “Do you have Blaine’s new number? He hasn’t given it to me yet.”

Adam does indeed have Blaine’s new number.

On his phone.

Which he used to accidentally send nudes to one of his best friends.

Adam hesitates, briefly. If there was ever a time to toughen up—

He answers, “Yeah, hang on,” and slips the phone out of his pocket. His lock screen lights up and and announces three new messages from Lawrence. Two text messages and a picture message.

Oh, boy.

Adam’s thumb hovers on the unlock, he can feel Bruce’s eyes on him and he knows he’s being silly, Lawrence probably brushed it off and sent him a picture of his _waifu_ or whatever back.

Adam unlocks the phone.

Two things happen.

One, Aaron, Blaine, and Jon burst out of the stage five door laughing their asses off.

Two, Adam reads the messages Lawrence sent him while the picture loads.

_‘Oh, I didn’t know we were starting this now. It’s kind of overdue, don’t you think?’_

_‘Anyway, it’s early here. I just woke up.’_

And the picture loads. Adam thinks, _Oh shit,_ as his mouth turns dry.

That’s—

That’s Lawrence’s dick. He’s hard and flushed against his stomach, the head of it red and leaking already. Lawrence’s right hand is wrapped around his base, and the angle suggests he’s taking a top down view of it with his other hand while he lays in bed. Adam recognizes the black and white sheets, he even recognizes the pair of underwear Lawrence has pushed down to his thighs in order to get a hand around himself—

Adam almost cracks his screen with how hard he’s gripping his phone.

“Hey dude,” it’s Blaine’s voice, tinged with seriousness, that breaks him out of it. “Where do you wanna go?”

Adam licks his lips with a dry tongue. He feels like he needs two gallons of water to make himself feel even remotely okay again.

Bruce is looking at him, both eyebrows raised.

Adam answers, almost flubs a word, “Burgers? Anywhere with burgers?”

Blaine nods, Bruce sends him an unspoken question with his eyes. Adam looks at Aaron instead.

They pile into Blaine’s jeep and Adam makes sure to put Jon between him and Bruce in the backseat.

 

* * *

 

They have a company dinner that night and Adam isn’t sure that Bruce giving him an out is something he should be thankful for.

By the time the work day had ended, two hours ago, Bruce had frowned and put the back of his hand to Adam’s forehead. “You’ve been red all day,” He had said. “You sure you’re okay?”

Adam didn’t know what to answer. He knows that he should be around people right now, but he also really should talk to Lawrence and get this whole _situation_ straightened out.

So he does the most logical thing.

He avoids his problems.

“Yeah, I’m good. When’s the dinner?”

Bruce answers that an hour from now. Adam goes upstairs, gets dressed, and goes to the dinner, like a goddamned adult. He is vaguely proud of himself for not being tempted by dick. Even if it’s his friend’s dick.

 

* * *

 

He’s had a few drinks, sue him. He’s nowhere near drunk, but he has a pleasurable buzz going in his head.

The dinner is winding down by now, dessert is being ordered by the time Adam excuses himself to the bathroom. His phone buzzes on the way there, and he makes a note to check it after he’s done with his business.

Bladder emptied and hands washed, he leans against the wall of the empty bathroom and checks his phone.

It’s another message from Lawrence.

_‘Hey, just checking in. Sorry if I misread the situation or made you feel uncomfortable at all. Just talk to me, please? Need to know what you’re thinking.’_

Adam’s gut clenches. He should tell Lawrence the truth.

He types out ‘ _Hey, sorry I’ve been radio silent all day’_ before he realizes he has no idea what the truth is. Sure, he could tell the truth about the picture he sent, that it was an accident, but that's where the truth ends—

Because, he realizes with a jolt, to tell Lawrence that he didn’t enjoy Lawrence’s reply picture would _not be the truth._

He groans out loud at the realization and thumps his head on the wall of the bathroom. God, he’s _fucked._ And kinda fucked _up_.

Adam swallows thickly, sighs deeply, decides to move into the stall just in case. He realizes that as much as this came about as a hell of an accident, he kind of… wants to see where it ends up. Kind of like a running joke where no one is laughing and it’s only dick pics. Yeah, exactly like a running joke.

He reviews his message, typing and retyping sentences until he finally settles on: ‘ _Hey, sorry I’ve been radio silent all day. It’s been really busy around here. The picture didn’t make me uncomfortable or anything. I actually enjoyed it. It’s just hard to admit that I want this to continue. Now that being said, would you like a picture of my dick?’_

He sends the message and pockets his phone before he has a chance to regret it.

When he gets back to the table, he catches the tail end of a joke Burnie was making.

 

* * *

 

He and Bruce part ways in the corridor. Their rooms are almost adjacent, just across and over one door. So Bruce waves at him and goes into his room, while Adam fumbles with his key. He’s hyperaware that Lawrence had answered his message when they were on their way back, when they were in Barbara’s car after she offered to drive them back.

Now, Adam licks his lips and enter his dark hotel room. Flicking on the corridor light, he starts emptying his pockets onto the desk. He turns on the TV for background noise and plugs his phone to charge.

He takes a long, deep breath. How did he get here? Here, to the point where he’s realizing he likes how his friends dick looks when it’s hard; here, where he’s willing to send a picture of his own hard dick back—

It’s not where he expected his life to end up, is all.

His buzz from dinner has passed, leaving him a little lethargic. But, he remembers, he has some whiskey Geoff let him have from the night before, Geoff citing that he’d rather Adam have it than Jack.

It’s already half-empty (or half-full, depending on perspective), but it’s just a little that Adam needs, enough to get him loose and giddy again. He’s decided that when it comes to this situation, it’s best not to think about it.

Adam takes a cup from the bathroom and pours in a finger. Warm whiskey is terrible, but he’d rather not go to the ice machine right now (might break his resolve, or rather, the _illusion_ of resolve, that it’s just him and his _situation_ inside this bubble of a room). He downs the whiskey in one go and winces at the burn. While he’s getting past how awful this decision has been, he unlocks his phone and reads Lawrence’s message.

_‘Yeah, I’d really like that.’_

Adam inhales deeply and unbuttons his pants.

Here goes nothin’.

On touch alone, Adam brings himself up to full hardness in a few minutes. The alcohol sure isn’t helping the endeavour but at least it’s not hindering him either. His buzzed brain at least _processes_ the idea of getting off to Lawrence’s dick easier.

The dilemma, Adam realizes as he strokes himself through his underwear, is not _taking_ the dick pic, it’s _framing_ the dick pic. Lawrence had been smart in his angles and framing. This is another thing Adam realizes. Lawrence had put _work_ into the picture.

Adam lays down on his pillows, and considers angles.

As he opens his camera app, he takes stock of how his face is flushed, his eyes are half-lidded, his mouth is red and slick, and _god,_ he looks debauched already even though no hands have touched him but his own.

He licks his lips again and moves the camera around, framing and discarding various choices.

He gets more at ease with the process as he works, moving, taking a picture, looking at it, moving again, taking another picture—

Adam has never been one to love his body, but he is certainly at ease with it in this moment. Whether it be because of alcohol or because he’s not really registering what he’s doing, he’s not sure.

The picture he ends up sending Lawrence came about as an accident. He was stroking himself again, keeping up momentum, with his shirt halfway up his midsection. The picture is using his thigh as an anchor, his hand splayed at the base of his dick, only index finger and thumb grasping it. It shows the skin of his stomach, an inch of ribs, his shoulders in his shirt, and his red lips, tongue poking out between them.

He sends the picture back, worry nagging at the back of his brain. Considering his task done, he throws his phone on the bedside table and starts stroking himself in earnest. He’d usually do this in the shower but, while he’s here, he guesses.

What he’s not expecting is Lawrence’s quick reply back.

He feels a bit too unburdened, judging by the speed at which he grabs his phone and unlocks it to read the message.

Processing the words on the screen, he chokes on his breath; it comes out as a surprised moan.

It reads, ‘ _Damn, you look good. Are you touching yourself thinking of me? I touched myself thinking of you this morning.’_

And another message comes in while he’s still staring at the screen. ‘ _Do you want me to talk you through this? And by that I mean, do you want me to tell you how I would touch you?’_

Adam’s breath punches out of him in one swift move. He’s really doing this. Okay, yeah, he’s really doing this. This’ll be a hell of a running joke.

He replies, ‘ _Yeah, go ahead.’_

(He only vaguely registers that he’s acting way too casual to be sexting his best friend. Whatever, he’ll have his freak out later.)

Adam stops his hand completely, getting frustrated at the dry-on-dry sensation. Spit won’t do if he’s going for an extended run (which he’s planning on), so he has to get up and rummage through his baggage for a stray packet of lube he _thinks_ he left in there.

He sighs and gets up, kicking off his shoes, underwear, and pants on the way to his suitcase.

After a minute of rummaging and hoping, he finds _two_ packets of lube and feels blessed.

First, fetches a towel from the bathroom, just in case. Then, he checks his phone.

There’s three messages from Lawrence. Adam squeezes around his flagging erection and feels himself getting excited again at the anticipation of Lawrence’s texts.

He rips open a packet of lube and squeezes the contents into his left hand. Adjusting himself back on the bed, he spreads the lube on his dick and hisses at the contact of cold-on-warm.

A few strokes later, he unlocks his phone and reads the messages,

_‘You look so good, I think I would maybe worship you a little. I’d start kissing your thighs, biting them if you’d let me.’_

_‘I wouldn’t touch you, not yet. I would make you touch yourself. I’d learn what you like so I could make you squirm under my mouth.’_

_‘What do you like, Adam? Would you want me to bite you? Choke you? Get you off quick and dirty? Or would you like to keep you strung out for ages before I let you come?’_

Adam reads the messages while he strokes himself; his hand speeds up involuntarily through the endeavor, and he bites his lip, types out a one-handed reply.

_‘Depends on how long you’d keep me on edge for. Maybe I want to be used like that.’_

Lawrence replies almost immediately, ‘ _No baby, I wouldn’t want to use you. I’d want to please you, make you moan, see you come. Multiple times, if it could be arranged.’_

“Fuck,” Adam breathes out. He can almost picture how Lawrence’s hand would look around his dick, stroking his orgasm out of him and how he wouldn’t _stop_ , he’d keep going and make Adam cum again, despite Adam’s pleas—

Adam’s hips stutter, his hand almost falters. He replies, ‘ _God, yes, I’d like that. More.’_

He’s too far gone in his imagination to care at this point about how needy he sounds.

_‘More? Of course.’_

_‘How about this: I’d like to eat you out. I’d like to have you sit on my face and ride my mouth until you were cumming hard. I want to work you over with my tongue, work you open with my mouth and have you begging for my cock.’_

That’s–oh, yeah, that’s a mental image Adam is all too happy to indulge in. He pictures his shaking thighs bracketing Lawrence’s head, imagines how Lawrence’s hands would grab his ass, spreading him open before the first touch of his tongue. Moaning, he wonders how Lawrence’s mouth would feel on him, whether he’d take it slow and soft or fast and hard, and he debates which one he’d like more—

He starts twisting in his upstrokes, his breaths coming out heavily. Adam makes a decision, then. He sends back ‘ _Would you fuck me?’_ before he sets down his phone and opens the second packet of lube, squeezes half of it on his hand and warms it up a little with his breath. He rolls over, pushing his hips up and his head into a pillow, positioning his phone beside him in such a way that he can type and read while his hand snakes underneath him, reaching behind his balls and to his entrance.

He hisses at the first contact of his lube-covered fingers but relaxes after a second, adjusting his head to read the messages Lawrence has sent him back.

‘ _If you want me to, I will.’_

_‘I bet you’d feel so good and tight around me.’_

_‘Fuck, I hope you’re touching yourself.’_

Adam pushes in one finger as far as his wrist allows and breathes out steadily.

‘ _I’m fingering myself’_ He answers back slowly, his finger working inside of him. He adds another finger and hisses with pleasure at the stretch and burn.

His phone sounds next to him.

_‘fuck.’_

_‘Can I see?’_

Adam fumbles with his phone, opening the camera again. He’s too far gone to care about angles and lighting– ends up sending back a tilted picture of half his face smushed into the pillow, the stretch of his back uncovered as his t-shirt slid down, his back arched, and his ass up, in full display. His camera arm covers his flushed dick and his other hand but Adam could care less. He hits send and adjusts his position, vying for more contact, inserting a third finger.

He puffs out wet breaths against his white pillow as he feels his phone vibrate again.

It takes him a second to pick it back up, too focused on his task, but when he checks, his stomach drops.

Lawrence has sent a picture back. It’s of him, sitting on a desk chair, his flannel shirt unbuttoned and pushed away, the line of skin of his chest and stomach leading up to his neck, his chin jutting out, his lips parted and flushed and _swollen._ His dick is out again, held in a similar position to Adam’s earlier picture, and Adam can see his jeans are unbuttoned and barely pushed away, he imagines how _desperate_ Lawrence must be to still be clothed and touching himself, and Adam recognizes that _he_ did this, he’s the reason Lawrence is touching himself—

Adam moans, decides to stop teasing himself. He regretfully retracts his fingers and lays the towel underneath him. With leftover lube, he slicks up his erection again and starts touching himself in earnest, no gimmicks now.

Lawrence sends another message. ‘ _Wish I could hear you moan my name.’_

And Adam considers calling him for a split second, but he’s not sure he’s ready for that yet. He settles on replying, ‘ _Wish you were touching me right now.’_

_‘Me too. Are you close?’_

Adam’s hand picks up the pace. He feels the orgasm building at the base of his spine.

‘ _yeah’_

_‘Good. Me too.’_

Adam moans softly at the mental image of Lawrence doing exactly as he is, touching himself to imagined scenarios of _Adam._

Adam’s brow knits together, he sends one last message unthinkingly, _‘can i come?’_

Lawrence’s reply is almost instantaneous, ‘ _Yes, baby.’_

Adam sucks in a breath as he reads the words, and his orgasm unfurls inside him. He grips a pillow hard, moaning brokenly into it as he cums thick ropes onto the towel underneath him. His hand moves on him even as his orgasm shudders through him and stops, until he’s on the brink of pain.

He drops his hand away from his softening dick, wipes the excess lube off on the already gross towel, and picks his phone back up.

As he drops his body to the side, throwing the towel onto the floor carefully, he sees no new messages. He sends one back, anyway.

‘ _Thank you.’_

Adam waits until his knees feel like working again, and then he moves, going for a shower to rid himself of the sticky feeling. He discards the empty packets of lube, washes the towel out as best he can, and drops back into bed, exhausted.

He huffs a laugh as he reads Lawrence’s reply.

‘ _No problem.’_

He falls asleep in record time.

 

* * *

 

In the morning, the afterglow is gone. He feels nervous again, like he’s doing something wrong.

The thing is, this is incredibly uncharted territory for Adam. And, in the simplest of terms, he’s _scared_. He is terrified at what this accident-turned-incident might do to one of the best friendships he’s ever had. What if Lawrence starts regretting doing this with Adam? What if Lawrence decides he doesn’t want Adam? What if Adam lets his fear get to him and he ends up hurting Lawrence? God, it’s– it’s terrifying, really. Keeps Adam on edge and sets the mood for his entire day.

As he and Bruce have breakfast, Bruce comments on how “You look better but still… off. You sure you’re okay?”

Adam waves Bruce off, yet again. “I’m fine, dude. You want my omelette? Not really hungry.”

Bruce quirks an eyebrow but accepts the omelette either way.

That day, they’re making content with Achievement Hunter and working on two The Know episodes with Meg and Ashley.

They’ve done two and a half videos of the scheduled three with the Achievement Hunter guys when Adam’s phone vibrates twice in his pocket, in the middle of a Let’s Play.

He tenses and fucks up his turn on Worms. Bruce yells at him playfully.

Bruce ends up winning anyway, and Adam makes sure to congratulate him before casually checking his phone.

Sure enough, the messages are from Lawrence.

‘ _Good morning’_

‘ _I hope you slept alright. I know I did. Last night was pretty great.’_

Adam doesn’t reply. He pockets his phone and doesn’t know _how_ to reply. Should he reply as a lover or a friend? They’re _lovers_? When the hell did _that_ term enter his brain? He wishes he could put his brain on vibrate as well.

Lawrence texts him again as he and Bruce go over The Know scripts with Meg and Ashley before lunch.

‘ _Goddamn, I read over all the messages from last night. Did you really finger yourself to me telling you about just how much I’d like to eat you out?’_

Adam stares at the words on screen, and he thinks, for the first time, _Maybe this isn’t as messed up as I’m making it out to be._

He replies as a friend, ‘ _Yeah, sent you a picture, didn’t I? Pics or it didn’t happen rules apply.’_

‘ _Well, you are absolutely right. How’s your day going? I thought it was another packed day.’_

‘ _Halfway done by now. About to take lunch before filming a know episode. Still feels weird doing one without you.’_

_‘I’m there in spirit. And also in pictures if you want any?’_

_‘I'm in the workplace, Lawrence and so are you._ _Respect the workplace.’_

 _‘Gotcha. I’ll only send messages about how badly I want to blow you.’_  

_'God dammit Lawrence.'_

True to his word, Lawrence’s messages start at the end of lunch, half an hour after their conversation. The messages start out pretty tame, just Lawrence complimenting Adam’s dick. It only grows teeth and takes on a narrative when Adam is in front of the camera stood next to Ashley and they have to read out lines.

Only, all Adam can think of is the series of texts buzzing around on the couch he threw his phone on. The messages swim around his head, painting the picture Lawrence wants him to imagine, a scene with them quick and dirty in an office, where Lawrence isn’t in Los Angeles but rather with _him,_ here in Texas.

For the first time, he asks himself if this would’ve been the natural progression of things if he hadn’t sent Lawrence that picture.

It’s a bit too much for his lust-addled brain to work through so he ignores it and files it away for later. Hopefully, later won’t mean _never_ as it usually does when it comes to Adam and his feelings.

He gets through The Know episode relatively unscathed. Ashley looks at him weird, but doesn’t pry and Adam isn’t sure he’s glad about having his privacy respected at this moment.

He’s actually a bit ashamed at how quickly he caves and looks for his phone.

Bruce is on stage with Meg for the next half-hour, so, he realizes, he has no one to report to for the next half-hour, no one who will ask about his absence.

He finds a quiet corner, on the edge of the animation department. He spots Miles engrossed in his work, so he decides not to bother him.

With his back against a wall, making sure no one can sneak up on him, he checks his messages. He’s got five new ones. Adam takes a steady breath and unlocks his phone, looking around once more, making sure no one is around to ask him what’s wrong or see him pop a boner.

And yeah, he does pop a boner.

Lawrence wraps the scenario up with a little bow, describing in detail how he’d like Adam to cum on his face.

The last text from Lawrence comes through while he’s staring blankly at the screen, processing the words.

Succinctly, it reads, ‘ _If you need help with any… problems, feel free to call me. I’ll be sure to help you out in any way I can.’_

So yeah, he’s—

‘ _Call me. 10 mins.’_

He’s gonna attribute this to the fact that he’s not thinking straight.

He leans up from the wall and, as discreetly as he can, adjusts his half-chub.

He’s gotta pick a good place for this. No, conference rooms are out of the question. The phone booth? Hell no. Prop room? _Hell_ no.

The only logical thing that comes to him is the bathroom. As cliche as it sounds, he’s going to have phone sex in the bathroom. Lord help him.

Far as he knows, there are four working bathrooms placed outside of the complex proper. He runs down the list in his head and recognizes that walking across the parking lot is a risk: people might see him, stop him, be grossed out by his boner, all of the above.

So he makes a logical bathroom decision and heads there.

Adam knows this office well enough to not feel guilty when he closes the door to the multi-stalled bathroom with a lock. And yet, regardless of a lock on the door, none of the stalls have doors, so he chooses the shower at the far end of the bathroom as his venue.

He’s slipping into the shower and closing the door when his phone rings. Adam fumbles with it for a second before he presses it up to his ear.

On the other end, Lawrence is breathing softly. Doors are opening a closing. Adam hears the murmur of James’ voice peter off.

After a few seconds of Lawrence’s steady breaths, he hears Lawrence speak.

“Are you there?”

“Yeah,” Adam says. To his own ears, his voice sounds strained. He clears his throat as quietly as he can.

“Okay, here’s what I want you to do. I want you to tell me where you are, what you’re wearing, and I want you to close your eyes.”

Adam looks around, “Uh, I’m in a bathroom, next to stage 5. In the bathroom’s shower. Place has a shower for some reason.” He looks down at himself, “I’m wearing my black jeans and my gray Batman shirt.” He slips his eyes closed and rests his head against the wall of the shower. “My eyes are now closed.”

“Okay, that’s good. Y’know, you never told me how you liked to be touched. So now, I want you to touch yourself however you like, but tell me what you’re doing to yourself.”

Adam furrows his brow. “I’m in public. This is a public bathroom.”

“I know. That’s why I want to hear you.”

Adam thumps his head against the wall of the shower lightly. “Okay, guess we know who likes to be in charge here.”

“I’ll let you be in charge next time,” Lawrence says, and Adam’s stomach does nervous flips at the promise of a next time.

“Okay.” Adam begins, talking as softly as he can. “Okay, I’m… going to touch… my nipples.” He has to force words out; he’s not used to talking about this out loud. On top of that, he feels increasingly dirty as he follows through with his actions: he licks two fingers and brings them up underneath his shirt to tease a nipple. His breath hitches, nervousness and arousal blending together, and he shifts his phone around into a more comfortable position, meaning to reach for his dick and start stroking himself, but—

Maybe Lawrence doesn’t want him to do that yet. He’s not in charge here, not yet. The phrase settles into his mind as he hears the faint jingling of a belt on the other side of the phone call. He can hear his own breath hitch as he teases his nipples exactly how he likes it.

Adam realizes that this whole thing focuses on being vocal. Communication is key, here. He swallows his pride, his embarrassment, and asks, whispered, “Can I touch myself now?”

“Yeah,” Lawrence answers, voice rough. “Touch yourself. Slowly. As if you’re going to be doing it for a long time.”

Adam swallows hard and reaches down to unbutton his pants, pull his cock out. He tries to be discreet as he spits into his palm in lieu of lube. He adjusts phone and starts stroking himself slowly, just how Lawrence had told him to.

“God, Adam, I wish I was with you.”

Adam, feeling bold, asks, “What would you do if you were here?”

He hears Lawrence groan softly and spit into his own palm. The sound of it make Adam choke down a groan, it sounds _obscene_ in his ear.

“You said you’re in a shower. Must be a small one, I bet it could barely fit the both of us. I’d squeeze in next to you and then I’d tease you, oh god, would I tease you. Just to hear your noises. And you’d be mindful of every little noise you’d make because it’s public–” Lawrence breaks off to groan, softly, and Adam’s skin heats up, his hands speeds up. “But, _fuck,_ Adam. I would tease you until everyone at stage 5 knew what we were doing. And everyone would be jealous of me, because I’d know what you look like when your dick is halfway down my throat—” Adam cuts Lawrence off with a shaky gasp.

“Jesus. Just like that. Those are the noises I want to wrench out of you.”

Adam strokes himself teasingly.

Lawrence speaks again, “Tell me about last night. Tell me how you felt when you fingered yourself.”

Adam swallows hard, feels like there’s not enough oxygen in his lungs when he answers, “I-It felt good. I like… I like the stretch of my fingers. I like—” He makes a soft noise, “I think I’d like you inside me better.”

Adam hears Lawrence choke on his breath, give a soft and earnest, “Fuck.” followed by a louder, “I think I’d like that too, baby.”

And oh, _oh,_ the way Lawrence calls him baby makes him moan, despite his surroundings or his predicament.

Lawrence, quick as a whip, picks up on it. “Do you like it when I call you baby?”

Adam muffles a whine, speeds up his hand.

“Would you like me to call you baby while I fuck you?”

Adam adjusts his phone and pinches one of his nipples over the fabric of his shirt.

“You want me to call you baby as I push you into the mattress? Or would you prefer a wall? Maybe even into the shower wall? Touch you until you’re whimpering and coming into my fist?”

Adam pants, lets out a whispered and broken, “Lawrence—”

“Or would you want to ride me? Maybe you’d like to fuck yourself on my cock, desperate, so fucking desperate for any type of contact I could give you. Would you like that? Seeing me moan underneath you to the pace you set?”

Adam’s breath stutters and he feels impossibly close, impossibly fast.

“I want you to tell me when you’re about to cum.”

Adam speeds his fist up, fucking into it and feeling the precum leaking out of his tip helping his endeavour.

He swallows down a moan, insteads lets out a whispered, “I-I’m close.”

“Good. I want you to come for me, baby.”

“Oh god, _Lawrence—”_ His hand twists on his dick, feeling messy and uncoordinated as his orgasm begins, as if Lawrence has wrenched it out of him—

“Come on,” He hears Lawrence groan.

His orgasm hits him all at once, punching the breath out of him. He cups his other hand on the head of his dick, cumming into his hand, emptying himself to the image of Lawrence’s hands on him instead of his own.

He vaguely registers Lawrence whispering out his name in between shaky breaths on the other end of the line.

Adam stands there, cum cupped in his hand, regaining his breath, listening to Lawrence’s breath evening out.

He laughs, suddenly, unsure of himself.

Lawrence huffs a laugh as well, the sound of it tinny in Adam’s ear.

Adam sucks in a breath. “Uh, thanks.”

Lawrence laughs a bit deeper, “You don’t have to thank me after each one of your orgasms.”

“Well I,” Adam has no idea what proper etiquette for this is. “I have no idea what to do in situations like… these.”

“You can say phone sex, Adam, it’s okay.”

Adam presses his lips into a hard line. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

It’s silent for a while, and Adam realizes he’s still holding his own cum. Gross.

He feels unbalanced, just a bit. “I, uh. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Lawrence sounds a bit caught off guard when he responds, “Yeah.”

“G’bye.”

“Bye.”

Adam hangs up, feeling sticky and awkward. God, he hates that he likes this.

 

* * *

 

The thing is—

The _fucking_ _thing_ is that it’s never been awkward between them, not really.

Not when Adam has seen Lawrence throw up on his own shoes while blackout drunk, not when Lawrence has seen Adam wear jorts as if it’s the most sound fashion sense ever. Even then, he knows Lawrence has no shame and in having Lawrence as a friend, his shamelessness has extended to Adam as nonjudgmental-ness.

So yeah, once he thinks about it, he’s being ridiculous. But he’s also scared as hell.

It comes to the point where Adam has literally turned off his phone because he’s too afraid of being so awkward or weird about the situation that it hurts their friendship.

He has no idea what he’d even _say_ to Lawrence if he texted him, called him, emailed him, fucking _faxed_ him.

Yeah, he’s fucked up.

He turned off his phone the moment he and Bruce got to the airport. He doesn’t turn it on when they land.

All Adam is glad about that day is that the only things on their schedule are a flight back home and office work.

The plan when they get back is they’re going straight to the office for a half-day, get some emails done, maybe a thumbnail or two before they clock out. Adam had parked his car in extended stay so they plan to take that back to the office.

Adam hasn’t spoken to Lawrence since _The Incident,_ capital T capital I, as he’s referring to it now. He’s so tired. There are bags under his eyes from where he was tossing and turning, worrying about what might change for him and Lawrence now, what might _evolve_ , how he might ruin this.

He’s so tired, so bone-weary, that when Bruce speaks up on their way to the car (“I know I’ve been asking you this all week but, are you okay? You don’t look alright.”), Adam is _seriously tempted_ to tell Bruce everything. Just spill the beans.

Bruce is technically only his boss in appearance, so he wouldn’t fire Adam, and Adam knows that Bruce cares about him wholeheartedly, so—

Maybe he _should_ tell someone.

He doesn’t answer Bruce then. It takes them getting on the freeway and encountering traffic for Adam’s warring mind to come to a decision.

He clears his throat. “I accidentally sent Lawrence a nude picture of myself,” Adam begins, no preamble to soften the story up. “And instead of Lawrence sending me a joke back or letting me off the hook, he uh. He sent me back a picture of himself. Naked. And, uh. Aroused.”

The cars in front of him aren’t moving as he presses the heel of his hand into his eye socket, making black and white dance behind his eyelids.

Bruce is silent for what seems like _forever._

Until he isn’t. “Oh,” he says. “That makes sense.”

Adam slings him an incredulous look. “What?”

“Yeah, uh. Lawrence was texting me all week. He kept asking if you were okay. And I guess I should’ve seen this coming. I mean. Huh.”

Bruce doesn’t look at him while he recounts these events, and Adam has the _strongest urge_ to ask Bruce what Lawrence said, to read the messages back to him verbatim.

Then he decides he’s not a 14 year old schoolboy with a crush. Adam thumps his forehead onto his steering wheel and groans.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Bruce begins, “He didn’t tell me anything. He was super discreet about the whole thing.”

“It doesn’t. Thanks, though.”

Bruce looks at him now, when Adam sits back up and moves two more inches with traffic.

“He cares about you.” Bruce informs him softly.

Adam takes a deep breath. “So do you.”

Bruce chuckles. “Yeah, but _I_ don’t send you naked pictures of myself.”

“Thank god for that.”

Bruce laughs again. “I’m serious. He _really_ cares about you. He wouldn’t stop hounding me all week, making sure you were alive, eating right, fucking, _talking_ right. He was a pain in the ass, but when you think about it, it’s kind of… sweet?” He says the last word as if he’s uncertain that _that’s_ the kind of thing Adam wants to hear.

It’s _not_ , not at this moment that Adam is still processing what’s going on in his brain.

Bruce lets him get lost in his own head for a moment. It’s not until traffic moves and Adam hasn’t that Bruce speaks again.

“Maybe Lawrence sent you another… picture back because he thought that’s what you wanted? Lawrence never does anything he doesn’t want to, you and I both know that. But… maybe he did this because he wanted to show that he cares about you.”

Adam snorts, “Nothing says _I like you_ like a well framed dick pic.”

Bruce nods sympathetically. “We’ve all been there.”

After a second, Adam sighs. “So what you’re saying is I haven’t ruined the relationship between Lawrence and I.”

Adam _hears_ Bruce’s smile, “I don’t think there’s _anything_ you could do to make Lawrence stop looking at you like you’ve hung the moon.”

Adam furrows his brow. “Huh?”

“Oh, boy. Give it a second.”

Adam’s brow remains furrows as they finally hit their exit. Once they’re off the freeway, traffic clears up, and—It clicks. In his brain, the spark goes off and it clicks.

Lawrence _cares_ about him. _Cares._ Lawrence _like likes_ him.

And, in a second where he almost totals his car, he realizes the feeling is mutual. He has an honest to goodness _crush_ on Lawrence. That’s why he’s been so goddamned scared about all of this. He has _feelings_. He factors in the doubt of whether the events themselves manifested the feelings or if they just precipitated his discovery. Regardless of the answer, he’s almost beating himself up in his brain. _Feelings._

He _likes_ Lawrence, wants to go on a _date_ with Lawrence, wants to kiss him, wants a _relationship_ , wants to see the face he makes when he comes, and—

“Oh my god,” he breathes out. “I’m fucked.”

Bruce doesn’t ask about this comment. He instead asks, “You think we should get some food?”

 

* * *

 

Adam stays in his parked car for ten solid minutes after he and Bruce have pulled up to the office.

Adam scrubs at his face. “We should probably go inside.”

Bruce nods. “We should.”

Neither of them move.

“Yeah, I mean, they’ve probably missed us.”

“Yeah, I bet they have.”

Still, neither of them move.

When it hits the eight minute mark, Adam’s warring brain makes words spill out of his mouth again. “What if I fuck this up?”

Bruce turns to him, turns his whole body to face him from the passenger seat.

“Adam, look at me. Hey, please look at me.” When he’s satisfied he’s got Adam’s attention, his expression and tone soften. “You are _not_ going to fuck this up. There’s no way you could. Lawrence… really cares about you. He _knows_ you. The only thing here is– do you care about _him_?”

Adam takes second, avoids Bruce’s eyes.

“I. I think I really do.”

“Do you _think_ or do you _know_?”

Adam’s eyes flick to Bruce’s determined gaze. “I _know_ I care about him. But I’m still– scared. I’m still scared.”

Bruce chuckles. “Aren’t we all.”

A silence follows, one where Adam is steeling himself for what comes next. He jingles his car keys between his fingers and opens the car door, slides out.

He looks at Bruce to see if he’s following suit or maybe he’s looking for reassurance—

Either way, Bruce climbs out of the passenger seat and nods at Adam; it’s a grounding force for him. Adam takes a deep breath and walks towards the office doors.

Once inside, James’ voice rings out above the rest.

“Ah! Finally back from your vacations! I hope you had a good time sippin’ mai tais cause all of us had _real work_ to do!”

Despite his harsh words, he delivers them with a smile and walks up to hug each of them in turn. Adam nods at Matt, who nods back, and throws Spoole a “Hey,” which Spoole reciprocates.

Joel looks down at them with playful disgust. Asks only, “Had fun?” in a voice that suggests it wasn’t a question.

As Adam sits down at his desk, he tries to be as casual as possible when he asks, “Where are Lawrence and Elyse?”

Joel is the one who answers, “Kitchen.”

Adam feels as if a dramatic sting is playing in his head. The tension he builds himself up on is incredible.

When the door finally swings open, Elyse is eating a pudding cup, Lawrence munches down on peanuts.

Elyse locks eyes with Adam first, moves over to give him and Bruce pecks on the cheek, and asks, “Did you get me souvenirs from Hawai’i?”

James yells from his rig, “I already made the vacation joke. Nice try, _Willems!_ ”

Elyse lets out a wavering, “Aww, man!” and moves over to her station. Which leaves—

“Lawrence,” Adam breathes out. “Hey.”

Lawrence’s hair is gelled up. His glasses are sliding down his nose and he’s wearing the gray TKDK pullover Adam likes, and Adam realizes he doesn’t only like the jacket, he also likes how it _fits_ on Lawrence, how it outlines his arms and neck and—

“Hey Adam, Bruce. Everything alright at Rooster Teeth central?”

Lawrence stopped moving when he got to Adam’s desk and he hasn’t moved since.

Adam swallows hard, “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

A beat passes where Adam and Lawrence just _stare_ at each other. Adam feels like he should _say_ something, let Lawrence know what’s going on in his head and find out what Lawrence is thinking; there’s so much chatter in his brain, so many unsaid feelings—

Bruce pipes in from his corner, silencing Adam’s brain chatter, “Hey, uh, Lawrence? Could you come over here for a second?”

Lawrence clears his throat, tears his eyes away from Adam. “What’s up?”

Lawrence walks over and stands directly behind Bruce’s chair as Bruce types something out on his computer and asks Lawrence, “What do you think?”

Adam goes on automatic, pressing the power button on his rig and staring at the boot-up screen as he focuses on getting his breathing in control. It’s almost back to normal when his computer wakes up, and he goes to pick up his headphones, trying to get into a normal workday headspace despite the feeling of his skin crawling with the simple knowledge that Lawrence is still at Bruce’s desk, incredibly close, as he and Bruce murmur to each other, Bruce typing out things on his keyboard and Lawrence answering—

“Adam?”

Adam looks up from his desktop at the sound of his name. To his left, Lawrence is looking at him, face impassive, and Bruce is looking at him too, face unreadable.

“Yeah?” Adam replies to Lawrence.

Lawrence clears his throat and moves towards Adam. Adam can smell his aftershave.

Lawrence leans down and asks him quietly, “Could I talk to you in the kitchen?”

Adam licks his lips. “Yeah, lead the way.” He pushes off from his desk and gets up, decidedly nervous.

Adam has known Lawrence long enough to recognize that Lawrence has four moods: I Am Over-Analyzing Everything, I Am Being Relaxed For Two Seconds, I Am Ready For The Alcohol, and Woooo Alcohol!

From the moment they step into the kitchen and Lawrence’s shoulders bunch up, Adam knows he’s over-analyzing the situation and has jumped into a subset of his over-analyzation: I Am Now Speaking Very Clearly So As Not To Be Misunderstood. He usually reserves this for arguments, podcasts, and shutting down idiots on the Internet.

Adam’s not sure if he should be glad that this is the mood Lawrence is going with, not in this situation.

“What’s up?” Adam asks, almost winces at his own words.

Lawrence leans against the counter, opposite where Adam takes his place at the white wall a few feet away. “I thought we should talk.”

“Yeah. We probably should,” Adam is an _adult._ He faces his problems, even if they are just _feelings_.

“I would like to preface this conversation by making it clear that even though I have seen your dick and enjoy making you come, our friendship is still going strong.”

Adam laughs, nervousness seeping out, if only a fraction. “That’s good to know.”

“I’m serious, Adam. Even if… Even if you decide you don’t want to continue this, I’m still your friend.”

Adam nods then, sobering. “I get it.”

A beat passes.

“So, where in this clusterfuck did you want to start?” Adam asks.

Lawrence grins (albeit a bit nervously), “Well, depending on your definition of sex, we’ve been having it for three days now.”

Adam tenses, but grins, despite himself. “Way to cheapen our relationship.”

“I actually consider that to be heightening its value. It’s quite a story already. From friends, to very momentary sex buddies, to…” Lawrence raises an eyebrow which Adam mirrors.

“To?” Adam asks, stomach in knots.

Lawrence shrugs, not looking him in the eye. “Right now, it’s up to you. I think you already know this, but I’ll say it so there’s no confusion: I care about you… very much. And if you had me, I’d gladly be with you. But I understand if you don’t want to ruin our friendship. Like I said, I’ll be your friend and leave this alone and we’ll never mention it again. Basically, I’m saying that the ball’s in your court.”

Adam blinks, processes the words. Huh. He scrubs at his face and pointedly looks at anywhere _but_ Lawrence.

“Don’t… bullshit me here. You’d seriously go back to being friends with me? Even after… all that?”

Adam sees the edge of Lawrence’s shoulders as he shrugs. “I never said it would be easy. But if it’s what you want, I’ll gladly give you my friendship and nothing more.”

Adam has known Lawrence long enough to tell when Lawrence’s feelings are hurt.

Adam breathes out, long and slow, and he shifts his gaze from the wall behind Lawrence to the ceiling.

“So,” He begins, “Hypothetically. If we started dating, what would change?”

“Hypothetically?” Lawrence takes a second. “Barely anything, I would think. There would definitely be kissing between us. More hanging out with each other. There would be more of us going out together. And sex. There would likely be sex.”

“So,” Adam starts again, “It’d be… like an add-on to our friendship.”

Adam’s eyes skip over Lawrence’s face just as Lawrence smiles. It makes Adam’s heart flutter, just a bit.

“Yes,” Lawrence says. “It would be like an add-on to our friendship. Extra DLC.”

“And you’re saying… you wouldn’t be opposed to this… DLC?”

“No, I would be first in line at Gamestop for it.”

Adam licks his lips. “Well, if you’ll have me, I’d like to give the DLC a test run.”

Lawrence huffs out a laugh. “Alright. I can deal with that.”

“Okay, good.”

“Hey, Adam?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you look me in the eyes now?”

Adam’s gaze snaps back to Lawrence’s face. The soft smile Lawrence gives him makes Adam’s chest feel warm and grounded.

“So, for clarity’s sake, do you want us to be dating? Or did you want to be my boyfriend?”

A thrill runs up Adam’s spine at the words. “Uh. Both? Is both an option?”

Lawrence’s smile grows. “Both is certainly an option.”

Adam nods, “Good.”

“Y’know,” Lawrence starts in his ‘did-you-know’ tone, “In ancient times, contracts were sealed by kisses, rather than by shaking hands. And kisses are way more hygienic than shaking hands anyway. It’s really a tradition that—”

“Lawrence,” Adam sighs, “If you want to kiss me, all you have to do is ask.”

Lawrence looks like he’s blushing when he pushes off the kitchen counter and into Adam’s space. “Okay, well. Could I kiss you?”

Adam bites back a smile. “Yes.”

Lawrence leans in close to Adam, flashing him with a grin as his face falls into Adam’s focus, the rest of the world blurring on the sides.

Adam holds his breath, expectant, as Lawrence brings his hands up to cup Adam’s cheek and neck. He tilts his head, eyes slipping closed, and Adam mirrors his expression.

The first touch of lips is shy, tentative, a ghosting sensation. Lawrence brushes their lips together deliberately, slowly, making a show of using the lightest touch before Adam takes in a shaky breath and Lawrence all but overwhelms Adam with a kiss. It’s hot and slow and slick, and Adam melts into Lawrence’s touch, hands scrabbling for purchase on Lawrence’s shoulders, his hips.

They move their lips together, feeling each other out for the first time, and Adam takes stock of every pleased noise Lawrence makes, how his fingers seem to dance on the skin of Adam’s neck.

It goes no further than the almost sweet slide of their lips, Lawrence pulls back and opens his eyes almost lazily, grin forming on his face. Adam mirrors his smile as he takes in Lawrence’s flushed cheeks. Adam feels laughter bubbling up in his chest, and he thumps his forehead down on Lawrence’s shoulder, laughing softly.

Lawrence lets out a chuckle and slides a hand onto the back of Adam’s head, slides his other hand down Adam’s back.

“Why haven’t we been doing this since the beginning?” Lawrence asks softly, and Adam’s laughter peaks then.

“It hadn’t really crossed my mind,” Adam answers, giggles turning giddy.

Lawrence scoffs, “Sure, stick to your story. I’m guessing I just _imagined_ all those times you joked about sucking my dick.”

Adam’s laughter peters off. “Yeah, man, get that overactive imagination of yours under control. It’s gotta stop.”

Adam pulls away then, looking Lawrence in the face.

“Should we tell the others?” He asks, feeling a nervousness build in his chest. One hurdle down…

Lawrence shrugs. “I mean, I sure would like to. Only if it’s okay with you, though.”

Adam considers for a moment before shrugging.

“They should know.”

Lawrence gives Adam a soft peck which leaves Adam flustered.

“Let’s go tell them.”

**Author's Note:**

> [here's my tumblr if youre into that sorta thing](http://shiphaus.co.vu)


End file.
